


First Time For Everything

by ellamaraschino



Category: Magic Funhouse (Web Series)
Genre: Brandon Rogers - Freeform, Brandon Rogers Cinematic Universe - Freeform, First Time, Gen, Intrusive Thoughts, Masturbation, Self-Discovery, arlos nervous, mention of drugs, takes him a hot sec but he gets the hang of it, this is also my first time uploading smut so be nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellamaraschino/pseuds/ellamaraschino
Summary: Arlo getting off on his couch for the first time. Self exploration.
Kudos: 3





	First Time For Everything

_‘I can handle it._ ’ Arlo thinks. ‘ _I can fucking handle this, I can handle it just fine, I jumpstarted a whole fuckin’ tv show on my own I can sure as hell jack off sitting on my own couch._ ’

He thinks it’s time. Everyone else is doing it. This is his next step.

The performer takes a deep breath. He’s been slowly running his fingertips up and down his abdomen for the past ten minutes but every time he nears below the hips his hand begins to tremble. He feels like he’s trying to stay above the deep end of a pool. His mind wanders to fond family pool party memories turned sour now after everything that’s happened, and he soon enough remembers his friend Sacha. . then Jimmy. What Jimmy wants. Oh for christ’s _fucking sake_ —

His fists clench and he holds both of them on the sides his head with an aggravated growl. This should not be this fucking difficult, god damn it! ‘Come on bitch, _snap out it!’_

Arlo sends a sharp slap to his cheekbone. “Cmon.” he urges under his breath. Another quick slap. “ _Come on_.”

In a moment of desperation, Arlo’s hand flies directly to his tip and he, without thinking of how he’ll do it, begins massaging with his thumb. And the moment he does, he shivers and all the cares of the workday melt in a matter of seconds.

“ _ Ohh, jesus christ _ _. ._ ” comes the whisper as Arlo slowly sinks back into the chair, his short blond hair bunching up behind him. “ ** _Fuck_**.” he breathes out.

His brows furrow, tilting up as his pace quickens. He tries to look at this like a cigarette — If you suck it out too quickly not only won’t you be able to savor it, you’ll probably get really fucking lightheaded. But he can’t help himself. His fingers wrap around himself and he’s eventually thrusting right into his hand.

Arlo then does something he didn’t think guys could even do. He whimpers. It’s soft, barely there, not very high but certainly not very low either. It sure wasn’t a masculine signal of pleasure, it was a  _ whimper _ and he surprises himself with it.

“Oh _f-fuck_!” The moan falls from his lips and he soon finds himself in a strange position, having sunken fully into the couch and with his legs sprawled in a fashion he could only describe as manspreading off the edge, head desperately reclined back into the cushion as he searches himself for pleasure he didn’t know he could even feel. If his body was too afraid of the cold before, it’s swimming in the warmth of the pool after finally growing used the waters. It’s like sunlight beaming down on your skin, just warm enough to keep you protected from the breeze whistling against the chlorine droplets. God, _why do people do drugs?!_

As seconds turn to minutes, Arlo throws his free hand over his mouth to quiet his incoming cries as he grinds into his fist like it’s a hydration in a desert. His buttondown shirt is halfway risen up his torso by now, skin chafing against the fabric of the couch but he writhes relentlessly, chasing that pure feeling down a rabbit hole.

The second whimper sounds as a new feeling creeps up on him. This one is much louder and he doesn’t try to silence it. In fact, his fingers aren’t even covering his lips anymore, merely clawing into his chin to try and ground himself to the world as if he even cared to stay on it right now.

“ _Uh_ -hh!” the star finally cries a guttural, two-syllable moan, throat baring as he once again throws his head back into the cushion behind him. His eyes roll back, mouth agape and Arlo grasps onto his release like a cure, riding it for as long as he can before he sinks back down, floating down from the high.

His breathing levels out and with the euphoria circling his mind like smoke, he places his focus on his chest as it rises and falls, every breath easy, pleasant and lighter than he’s felt in a long time.

Well. . He did it. He can cross that one off the list.


End file.
